Worlds away from the general mayhem of their Indonesian grandparents, my twin boys are the apple(s) to their beloved Nulla Nanna’s eye.

Nulla is the abbreviated term fondly referring to Cronulla, a beachside suburb which is located in Sydney’s south. Its coastline is scattered with sandy beaches, rock pools and nature parks.

So going from Northern Sumatra to Cronulla, lies the stark contrast of grandmas. Whilst their Opung (Indonesian grandmother) yearns longingly for the boys to finally be able to enjoy her spicy homemade Indonesian cooking; Nulla Nanna is keen as mustard to see her grandsons hang ten and ride the waves at her nearby surfing beaches.

To say Nulla Nanna is besotted by her grandsons would be an understatement. Like a loyal teenage fan admiring her favourite pop star, she has all of the twins’ memorabilia; There is the “Proud Nanna of Twins” tote bag, the “Proud Nanna of Twins” key ring and the “Proud Nanna of Twins” compact mirror. Not to mention the growing kitchen wall collage that is completely dedicated to photos of her little rock stars. I won’t even begin to start on her computer screen saver…

Being a tech saavy senior citizen, she possesses all the gadgets to help her capture and collect more grandkiddy memories – the digital camera, the computer, the blessed digital photo frame, even (though we don’t know why…) the paper shredder. Since the boys started crawling, there has been serious talk of upgrading the digital camera for one that will take better quality videos (Watch out, Spielberg !).

From the day the twins were born, our Nulla Nanna’s love and devotion has been unwavering. Typical of new parents, my husband and I were overwhelmed by the responsibilities and demanding schedule that were expected of us – especially as there were two newborns to take care of. But Nulla Nanna took it all in her stride. Without a moment’s hesitation she offered her full, undivided assistance. In our bleary eyed state, she always came to our rescue. And for that, we are forever grateful.

For the first 6 months of our boys’ lives, twice a week, Nulla Nanna would make the hour long commute from Cronulla to our home. Even when she was caught in peak hour traffic or had a car accident (twice !) – she would always arrive at our doorstep in good spirits.

You may think that such duties are the standard obligations of a grandmother. And you may be right. But Nulla Nanna’s wait for her first grandchildren had been a little longer than anticipated. Thus, their birth was all that more special to her.

Being a widow for over ten years, most of her family and relatives live interstate or overseas. So, Nulla Nanna keeps herself busy by catching up with friends, going to the movies, seeing plays and going to the gym.

Indeed, the arrival of our sons have created an even busier schedule for her. But as an observation, I think they have given her a little more fulfillment too. Her days seem to have that added “sparkle” and perhaps, unfortunately, the occasional baby mess. Nevertheless, she soaks up every single moment with her little super stars.

During one of her visits, whilst cuddling one of the twins, Nulla Nanna had the misfortune of having this little gromit regurgitate his chicken, pumpkin and zucchini puree lunch all over her pristine, crisp, white shirt. Later that day, when talking to her on the phone, checking to see she made it home safely, I quickly apologised for my son’s accident that had left a nasty stain (and smell !) on her shirt.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Nulla Nanna said cheerfully. “I would rather have a filthy shirt and two gorgeous twin grandsons instead of a clean, untouched one and no grandchildren. In fact, as a keepsake, I might not even wash it.”

Along with the growing number of bi-racial families here in Australia, so too will my twin sons be raised in the surroundings of two diverse cultures. Without a doubt, their Indonesian grandmother will play an integral part.

Despite my own complicated relationship with my mother (Another story, another blog, another six years in therapy…haha), over the years I have learnt to accept and appreciate her endearing qualities that derive from the fact that she is Batak. Bataks are an Indonesian ethnic group hailing from Northern Sumatra. Their women are famous for being feisty, robust and hardworking. True testament to this is that my mother is well into her mid-70’s, yet she is still holding down two jobs (one being a night-shift employee at Australia Post and the other, a physically demanding cleaning job).

With her preference to being addressed by the Batak term for grandma, Opung (Pronounced: “OH-poong”), my mother makes no qualms over her disinterest in baby-sitting duties. Forever the working woman, my mother followed the standard set by Indonesian culture and whilst growing up there, my brothers and I were predominately raised by a nanny. (Being the fifth most populous country in the world, with 220 million humans, you’re gonna need some hired help !) Instead, Opung takes merit in other shapes and forms.

A Grandma's Touch: One of my boys asleep in his Opung's arms

When my boys arrive at their grandparents’ house, there is great fanfare; They are flooded with LOTS of music. (Ask any Indonesian – Bataks are renowned for their love of singing). It’s not long until Opung starts passionately singing Indonesian nursery rhymes about balloons and rainbows. This is accompanied by animated dancing and rhythmic movements. Grandpa is in the background, either playing the ukulele or the electric keyboard. The lounge room depicts a Kuta Beach nightclub gone beserk. Barely ten months old, my twin boys are always amused by all the commotion. I swear I see them stare at each other as if to say, “What IS all this madness ???”

Along with her love of music and dancing, Opung is the foremost cook in our extended family. Indonesian friends and relatives will travel far and wide to come over and relish in my mother’s accomplished dishes – her Indonesian fried chicken and her beef rendang (an Indonesian dry coconut based curry if cooked correctly, the beef is so tender, it melts in your mouth). At the moment, her little grandsons are still adjusting to their bland chicken and veggie purees. But I can see she is waiting in anticipation for the day that they can enjoy her spicy culinary delights. As even my husband discovered – to please Opung means to reach for that fifth helping.

From the early days, our boys have for the most part, learnt to self-settle when it comes to naps or bedtime. But as every parent knows, nothing is ever certain and there are days when, for whatever reason, either one or both boys cannot, will not, sleep. Enter Opung. She rocks them. She cradles them. She sings to them. They are asleep in nano seconds. How DOES she do it ? I don’t know. It’s one of those unexplainable Grandma qualities, I guess.

Immersed in Indonesian song and dance, while being fed full with fried chicken and beef curry, my little half-Aussie, half-Indo boys will be taught by their Opung to be proud in their heritage and background. In this valuable lesson, I hope that they will also grow up to embrace and respect the culture and customs of others.

Last Sunday, my husband and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary (Woohoo !). To commemorate, this blog post will try to record some of the highlights of our special day.

Early in the planning stages, my husband and I decided that we wanted to make our wedding day as personal as possible and for it to reflect our personalities. Hence, ours wasn’t the most conventional of weddings.

Besides the traditional church ceremony, everything after was pretty non-“bridal”. For starters, the bride was 5 months knocked up, with twins 🙂 Then, there was our wedding cake (chocolate mud, thank you very much). The figurines on top were of a groom in board shorts, whilst holding a surfboard. The bride was holding a microphone which perfectly depicted my great love of karaoke and the spotlight 🙂

There was no romantic, mushy, soppy slow waltz for our first dance together. No, no, no. Instead, we went with…DISCO, baby ! “Got To Be Real” by Cheryl Lynn was our tune of choice . And despite the countless dancing classes at the Arthur Murray Dancing School, on the night, we still failed to “cut a groove”. (Picture: Bride with a HUGE bowling ball up her wedding gown, being flung around the dance floor by groom with two left feet). John Travolta would’ve hung his head in shame.

Nevertheless, keeping in line with the moves of the disco theme, the bride (ahem, yes me…), took to the microphone and, in loving tribute to my teenage idol (R.I.P MJ), performed with the band, “Blame It On The Boogie” (Not very “bridal” at all !!!). No alcohol involved. Just pure adrenalin and the sheer thrill of taking to the stage and having my five minutes of fame at my own wedding 🙂

8 months into motherhood and I feel that the days are becoming a blur and there seems to be little productivity. This is frustrating because being a stay-at-home mum is definitely the toughest job I have EVER done (and let me tell you Sales in IT is no walk in the park…). Yet, I ask myself, “Where are the achievements ? Where is this all going ?” Don’t get me wrong. I love my twin boys with every living part of me, but bloody hell, they’re hard work ! I’m not used to putting this much effort and not really seeing the immediate return. I have my husband constantly telling me the results are forming, that things will get easier and the boys will soon be more independent. My reply is always (as lame and irrelevant as it is): “You’re not doing the breastfeeding…”

So, to try and put some clarity to each day, I am going to (ahem) commit to at least 30 minutes (yikes !) of typing into my blog every day (gulp !!!). No matter how tired I am, or how much exhaustion and sleep deprivation is clouding my ability to think, I WILL log in and WRITE.

We seem to find wisdom from those we least expect. A little while ago, unable to get an hair appointment at his regular barbershop, my husband went to an alternative place. There, he striked up a conversation with the owner about raising children and how tough the early baby stages can be. The barber quietly said, “Ah yes, the days seem to go by so slowly, but the years go by so quickly.” I know we’re not there yet, but I’m sure there are truth to his words.

I guess this is another reason why I want to try to stick to this blog. At some point, the stage of groundhog days will end but I will still want to have some record of what happened. No matter how mundane or slow these days seem…

About Me…

Indonesian-born, Grace spent extensive time living and working overseas, primarily in Japan. She now resides in Sydney where she is mum to identical twin boys and wife to an avid surfer. While she has happily replaced office life with motherhood, Grace has discovered that a 10 year career in corporate sales and being fluent in 3 languages is futile when dealing with toddler tantrums and singing “The Wheels On The Bus”